


The Tales of the Almost

by StarvingMe



Category: Original Work
Genre: Behind the Scenes, Dia you just tell me who you want to romance and make sure it's not Sidon, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hell honey I love you with all my heart, I don't think my players will read these tags, M/M, Mentions of past abuse, Mim JUST KISS SUKE ALREADY, Mostly Fluff, Multi, NaNoWriMo 2018, No pressure though, Originally for my D&D group, Posting for those that want to read, Pregnancy, Priv you should totally go for Alwynn, The Fae Courts, The Fae don't adhere to your ridiculous gender binary, The Hallowed - Freeform, Warnings and ratings to change, and Mercutio deserves happy things, i mean like, if my players are reading this, in between scenes and arcs, kind of?, let's be honest here, mentions of asshole fathers, mentions of male-presenting characters getting/being pregnant, mentions of past non-con, mentions of past possessions, mostly background stuff, spoilers?, this was an excuse to write the naked Pharony bath scene I've been planning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-08-14 13:54:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16493864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarvingMe/pseuds/StarvingMe
Summary: Half-Fae, half-celestial being.  She was all about breaking rules anyway.  What was bring a few more miscreants going to really hurt anyway?  D&D adventures and side stories.





	1. The State Dinner

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zaidnovi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zaidnovi/gifts).



She stood in the wings, wrapped in a shawl that hid her light from the gaze of the partygoers.  They were having a great deal of fun already, meeting the people that were trapped by the time curse.  Most amusing was the human bard Dia Seum, who was dancing about with the gnomes and Halflings in attendance, enjoying something that was deceptively called tea that held not a drop of it.

She almost jumped out of her skin when she felt a hand on her lower back, ready to bolt if she’d been discovered by an errant partygoer, but this hall was supposed to be vacant until well after midnight, and the clock had just rung eleven.  Her heart leapt in her throat, only just calming as she caught the gentle gaze of her husband, his arms slipping about her middle to hold her gently and sway to the music that filtered up to this hidden nook.

“They’re having quite a lot of fun,” Vaughn said, letting his forehead fall to rest on her shoulder, leaning into her hand when she reached up to smooth his ebony locks.  “Though I do wonder what you hope to accomplish by bringing them here...”

“Call it a hunch,” she said, wincing a little when he accidentally brushed a still-healing burn.  “Besides, if you knew what I saw, you wouldn’t have left them there either...”

“I do trust your judgement,” he said, pressing a kiss to where the bandages had started to slip.  “But this recklessness can’t go on...  You don’t see everything, and next time, it could be far more than a fireball that you miss in your visions...”

She sighed, turning to press a kiss to Vaughn’s temple.  “It’s not recklessness,” she murmured, eyes growing bright as she looked down at the group mingling in the state dinner below.  “There’s always a risk for things to go wrong, my heart...”

She didn’t miss the way his arms tightened around her, knowing that this was not a pleasant topic for him.  Sighing, she saw the pale-haired fey elf slip out to the garden, and her heart sank a little.  Placing a hand on Vaughn’s arm, she asked gently, “How is she?  The other patient, I mean...”

The brush of Vaughn’s sigh made her shiver, smiling as he said, “Don’t change the subject...”

“I’m not,” she said, kissing his temple again.  “Her fiancé is worried, and I worry about them...  It’s hard to be separated from the one you love, even when it’s to help them recover from a diabolical poisoning.”

Vaughn huffed again but finally said, “She’s doing better.  She is responding to the treatments, and they should clear her to return to their joined quarters soon if she isn’t already.  She’s a tough one, that’s for sure—I can see why your father chose her for his vessel if she’s managed to stave off Clemente’s neurotoxin for this long.  That spineless jellyfish relies too much on dastardly poisons anyway...”

“Jellyfish are naturally spineless,” Divine said, rolling her eyes a little.  “It’s redundant to call them spineless...”

“Don’t deflect,” Vaughn said, kissing her neck as she giggled.  It was a faint sound, but it warmed his heart to hear it again, his pointed ears fluttering a little at the sound.  “So are they engaged? Or are they married?”  She laughed again, more heartily this time as Vaughn smiled against her skin.  “I mean it, though!  She stood on that railing, and for a moment, I had a flashback to a particular woman standing tall and defiant in front of a crowd of angry Fae.  And what was that she bellowed as she made her stand?  ‘Back away from my wife!’” he imitated with an exaggerated snarl, making her snort as she elbowed him a little.  “Very romantic, that...  I almost wish I could go back and do my proclamation a little differently myself...”

“Well,” she said with a growing blush, her pale face blossoming to an embarrassed red, “if I remember right, I was the one doing the proclaiming...  and I simply told Malachi to unhand you, or I would put my glass slipper up his ass...”

“Ah, yes,” Vaughn said as if he didn’t have the event committed to memory, “how could I ever forget seeing you in that rippling gown, wings flexing, shoulders heaving, skirts fluttering most unladylike around your knees,” he paused, his wife laughing and playfully hitting his shoulder as he grinned.  “Yes, that’s when I knew I was yours.”

“As I am yours,” she said, pressing a kiss to his brow, making him sigh contentedly.

“So...  Want to explain to me why they call you Lady Divine?” he asked, making her burst into giggles.

“They aren’t anointed yet, so they can’t...”  She made a gesture with her hand, wiggling her fingers as she motioned to her head.  “And so they asked me what you call me.”

Suddenly it was Vaughn’s turn to look scandalized, his deathly-pale face starting to turn red as he laughed, scooping her up into his arms to pepper kisses all over her face, her forehead, her cheeks, the tip of her nose, and finally claiming her lips as he murmured, “How cheeky of you...”

“Hmm,” she hummed into the kiss, letting him lift her up into his arms to carry her away from the party.  “Well, it’s not like I’m going to tell them what you actually call me,” she said, running a hand through his hair.  “Besides, this was...  fitting, easy to remember, and best of all...  It’s a new name.”

“I will never understand your need to collect names,” he said, shaking his head.  “For now, love, let’s get you to bed before I escort our little troupe to the guest quarters...”


	2. Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Briefly touching on the beginnings of Tabernam Ardet.

Tabernam Ardet’s beginnings were much like any other adventuring group.  They met purely on accident, in the middle of nowhere, and decided it would be best to split a room and travel together.  There might’ve also been a mostly-unconscious elf and some gold and a few other deciding factors, but those weren’t too important.

“My name is Pharony Galanodel, and I’m wanted for the murder of my entire clan.”

That was pretty important though.

Everyone went very quiet as the elf stood before them, mask in hand, showing them the mark that had been left on her face.  Even the angel among them was stunned into silence, though it was for a completely different reason.

The flesh over about half of her face was simply gone, exposing ligaments, tendons, and muscle.  When she turned her head to the side to place the mask on the side table, they could see her back teeth and her tongue as she swallowed heavily. 

“I didn’t mean to keep it a secret,” Pharony said, mostly to Hell, who seemed torn between facing away and staring, arms still folded in front of her.  She had known it was bad—it would have to be, the way Pharony had guarded that secret with tooth and nail—but knowing like this seemed to make it worse.

“About a century ago,” Pharony continued, addressing the room.  Might as well go to her death with someone knowing the truth.  “About a hundred years ago, when I was very young, I was approached and tricked by a being who used my consent to possess me.  He... slaughtered my family, my parents, my siblings, my entire clan, and made me watch, trapped in my own head.  And then he went joyriding, tearing holes in my homeland and salting the earth, slowly killing everything that lived there.”  Tears filled her eyes, but she pressed on, even as tears fell down her face.  “It is a dead land now, where nothing grows, where horrors stalk the land and beasts prey on those unfortunate enough to happen upon it.  And I am seen as responsible, even though I was a child, even though I just...”  Her voice faltered then, mismatched eyes looking to the ceiling as she tried to finish speaking.  “I just wanted to go and play instead of learning to track and hunt with the rest of my clan...  I was a child, and...  After that, I couldn’t be anymore...”

There was movement, and familiar arms wrapped around her middle, delicate hands clutching at her like a lifeline.  Tears threatened to fall then as she held Hellebore tightly, hands tracing through her hair gently.  “I’m sorry,” she said softly.

Across the room, the angel Anura was struggling to contain her emotions.  She had expected something unusual, but she had just gotten here—she’d barely learned anyone’s names when she had crawled out of that crater.  Putting a tight lid on her feelings, mostly the feeling that she needed to scoop up these people and tuck them close and keep them safe, she cleared her throat and said, “So...  what do you need of us?”

“I...  I don’t know,” she said, looking around the room and hesitating before she said, “I don’t have much...  I... I could pay you something...  but... I... I need to clear my name...  I’m innocent of this demon Malachi’s crimes...”

Anura’s blue-grey eyes closed tightly as her lips pursed tightly together. _Damn my father to the deepest Hells_ , she thought bitterly before squaring her shoulders and sitting up.  “Well then, my dear, I think you need help in some... _high_ places...”

She wished she could have preserved the looks on their faces for a bit.  Dia’s expression was nothing short of true glee while the others ranged from confusion, skepticism, to a look of almost hope in Pharony’s eyes. 

“I think I have a few ideas.  But we’ll have to go shopping.” 


	3. Pouty Bath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Naked-Pharony pouting in the bath.

 

Pharony wouldn’t lie if she was asked.  She enjoyed the idea of going to the Royal Yule Ball among the Fae Courts of fair Verona, seeing the love of her life dressed like the radiant being she was, being allowed to dance with her newfound friends—though perhaps ‘friends’ was a bit strong yet, but she liked them well enough—enjoy some wine, and make her vows under the starlit skies as snow danced around them...

But she wasn’t to attend.  She was a known criminal, and as a member of the Unseelie court, a known fugitive, and overall still recovering from the effects of the neurotoxin, she wasn’t exactly in any state to attend. 

She sighed again.  She wasn’t sulking, she told herself, sinking a little more into the water as she bent her long legs, knees breaking the surface of the water.  She was simply uncomfortable with the idea of Hellebore going off into danger like that.  Angyal had reassured them that Lord Tybalt wouldn’t be in attendance, but that didn’t make the elf feel any better, ears drooping as she let herself sink up to her nose in the warm, rose-scented water.

The curtain shuffled, Hellebore appearing with an armful of something gauzy and soft that shimmered in the faint light in the backroom, and Pharony tried to sit up quietly, watching her, and effectively overbalancing when she reached for the stool where her mask had been resting.  Not that Hellebore hadn’t seen it, of course, and the mark was hard to forget, but still, there were only so many levels of naked that she wanted to be right now.  Of course, she missed the stool and her foot slid on the smooth bottom of the bath, sending her sprawling back into the tub and flailing for the edge as the water rushed over her exposed face and up her nose and through the hole in her cheek, making her choke and gag when she came up for air.

Hell was there in an instant, even before Pharony resurfaced, the rest of her face and shoulders growing a bright red as she averted her gaze.  Shame still burned in her chest and made her eyes shine with tears.  How many times had they kissed?  How many loving embraces?  Hellebore had seen her disrobed before, and she had been present when Angyal had examined her that first night, but still, she was so close, Pharony could just reach out and caress her cheek.  Something in that felt forbidden, but it was the only thing she wanted, well and truly.  Part of her wanted to toss the gown away and pull Hell into her arms and kiss her senseless.  Maybe she would forget going to the party, forget this crazy plan—maybe they would just run away together...

The gentle touch of a rag on her marked cheek made her look up, Hell smiling down at her.  “You should probably take better care at cleaning this...  I mean, what if it gets infected?”

Pharony smiled a little as the balm was gently applied, sighing as she relaxed back in the bath.  Next came help with her hair, the red-sheen locks in desperate need of a good shampoo and oil treatment as Pharony washed the rest of herself.  She didn’t expect Hellebore to do this, but it felt good after being on the road so long, and then trapped in a cart, then in the cot as the neurotoxin slowly killed her from the inside out...  It was good to wash it off, slowly starting to feel more and more like herself.  Her limbs shook as she leveraged herself out of the tub, Hell’s hands holding her steady as she shuffled upright, quickly beginning to dry her long limbs as Hellebore deftly combed the long tresses, loosely braiding it and securing it with a bit of leather that would tighten as it dried. 

She was about to move to empty the tub and refill it when she felt Pharony’s hand on her shoulder.  This was her moment, her last chance as she pulled Hell close, touching her forehead to hers.  It was a small gesture, her hand resting at the nape of Hell’s neck as her eyes closed, and for a moment, with that small contact, standing bare to her for all the world to see, she felt her throat close on all the words she wanted to say as she tried to say them all at once.  Her mouth went dry, and she felt tears burn in her eyes, and she just let them fall as she took a ragged breath.

In her clan, and among many clans of her court, this was the most honest expression of trust.  No armor, no barriers, nothing to hide themselves from their gaze.  No glamour to hide behind, no shadows to slink into, just open air and an honest touch.  She tried the only way she knew how to tell her lover that she trusted them above all others.  Hellebore didn’t know everything, not yet.  That would take a lot of strong alcohol and possibly a bucket to throw up into first before she told her lover about everything else that had happened.  Her shame first and foremost kept her from speaking those words out loud, but this...  this she could do.

Without a second thought, she leaned further down, pulling Hellebore into a kiss that began as a brush of her lips, slowly deepening as Pharony felt that knot of worry well up again, and she told herself no, Hellebore would be all right...  Hellebore is mine...

She parted for a moment, tears stinging down her raw cheek, the salt dripping from her jaw as she murmured, “Telif dehl...”


	4. What's In a Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tabernam Ardet is latin for Tavern/Shop Burns.

The goblin stood as the bar blazed before him, the reality of it sinking in.  The fire marshals were fighting to keep it from spreading, but the flames had reduced the place to an inferno in record time.  His stomach sank as he felt tears welling up.  He wasn’t a bad guy... sure, he did some underhanded dealings, but you had to play nice with the Unseelie—those trolls from High Road weren’t above taking the low road—and it didn’t hurt to rub elbows with those highborn folk from the Seelie court either on the side...  But he didn’t think he deserved to have his adopted parents’ tavern burn down the moment they left for a winter vacation and left him in charge for the first time ever.

It had been a good enough night for the most part.  The beginning of the Yule festivities, and the front of the house was busy.  Unfortunately, it was keeping him from attending to the back of house tasks, and he was starting to get agitated.  He’d been waiting for months for his parents to leave him in charge, and suddenly, he was so overrun with customers, he couldn’t get a moment away...

“Sir!” an all-too chipper voice called from the far end of the bar.  He looked up from the glass he was trying to clean to see a human leaning over the bar, trying to get his attention around a pair of burly customers.  “I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time!”

Rolling his cat-slit eyes a little, he made his way over to where she was hopping excitedly.  He glanced her up and down—veil, tan skin, light brown eyes, a sort of conventionally pretty person, if unusually dressed for the weather.  Before he could so much as ask how he could help her, she was bubbling forth, asking for a job, any little work would do, she was very good at playing the samisen and she could sing, did he want a preview, she could make up a song about almost anything, just watch, before he could hold up his hand to slow her down a little.  He hesitated a little, but like his mother said, you don’t look a gift kelpie in the mouth, and he was hardly likely to balk at this chance.

“Do you know how to mix drinks?” he asked, watching her face somehow brighten even more.

“Oh, yes!  I’m very good at it!  The best mixer-upper!  And I’m very creative too!”

“She’s actually quite good,” said the white-haired half-elf at her side as she lifted her glass in acknowledgment of his attention.  “You won’t find a harder worker than Dia Seum.”

Half an hour later, the rush was under control enough, and Chad Phuque couldn’t believe his luck.  This Dia seemed to handle the influx of orders with ease, and though she was a bit more bouncy than he would have liked, she did the work without complaint.  Taking his flagon of ale, he told her he was going to the back to take care of a few things, confident enough to leave the front of the house to the latest help.

Half an hour later, she popped into the back, bringing a fresh ale to him and he didn’t even think twice about it, smiling as she bounced out and brought drinks back for the other players.

He didn’t even think twice about it when she came back to ask where the firestarter was, having shown her the recipe book for the signature drinks—there were a couple of popular ones that involved fire, so that wasn’t unusual.  He didn’t even notice the occasional puff of smoke coming from the front, or the clash of glass here or there.  They ran a bar, and this was a most festive time of the year!  There were bound to be a few glasses broken by the revelers...

He was just starting to gain the upper hand in his card game with some of the high rollers when she came in, bells jingling a bit as she quickly approached him, leaning down and murmuring something into his ear.

Frowning, he wasn’t paying much attention when he said, “Hmm?  What was that?”  When sherepeated herself still at a low murmur, he sighed, turning to look up at her with a scowl.  “What is it, girl?  I’m a very... busy...”

He didn’t get to finish his statement, eyes growing wide as he saw the flames shooting up from the bar.  Looking to Dia, he saw the soot on her face, the shell-shocked expression, and the tiny pink umbrella she was holding in her hand as she trembled all over. 

“I...  I followed the instructions...” she said quietly.

“F-for what?!” Chad bellowed as the others around the table scrambled to collect their coins and flee.

“For the...  Burn the Bar drink...”

“For the WHAT?!” he cried before turning to yell for everyone to evacuate, calling for help, for the guards as a row of bottles exploded overhead, the vapors of the alcohol quickly adding to the flames that spread.

Standing outside the burning bar, he swallowed heavily, shoulders starting to shake as he gave small, hiccupping sobs.  He barely registered the gentle hand on his shoulder, turning to look up into the soot-smeared face of Dia, who held out to him the tiny paper umbrella.

“I want to thank you for this opportunity, sir,” she said as he took the umbrella between his shaking fingers.  “I am... sorry...”

 

***

 

Divine sat at the breakfast table, forkful of eggs halfway to her mouth as she had listened with widening eyes to Dia’s retelling of the story.  She wanted to feel sorry for the goblin, but at the same time...  The fork clattered to the floor as she started to roll with laughter, tears falling down her face as she gasped for air.  Dia was a little embarrassed, but Divine seemed happy to hear the story, and she seemed so much lighter suddenly, so it was worth it.

“Oh, goodness,” Divine said, still chuckling as she wiped her teary eyes, “my face hurts from all this smiling!  I haven’t laughed like that for a long while now...”

“Well,” Dia said, smiling at her as she seemed to relax, enjoying her breakfast again, “that’s good!  You should always have a chance to laugh!”

“I hope to have many more chances, Dia,” the angel said, smiling sadly as she looked at Dia, who simply beamed in return.


End file.
